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Busted

Here’s a flash of fiction I wrote awhile back. The prompt was something like, “you won the lottery, tell us what you do next.” I like the darker side of fiction so there’s your warning. I do hope you like it. xoxo,
Sandra

“Good luck!” snickered the quick stop attendant before bagging my package of mini powdered doughnuts and ibuprofen. I grab my styrofoam cup of black coffee and head out the door into the cold December air taking in the smell of the alfalfa fields and the cow manure; the scent of daybreak in the central valley. If only it was that easy, I thought, to buy good fortune at the quick stop. Change the whole game with a $5.00 quick pick. A $5.00 dream. I dry mouth two ibuprofen with a grimace and hope the coffee and pain reliever will work some magic on the brutal effects of last night’s happy hour. The kind of happy hour that stretches far beyond an hour and only leads to regrets, splitting headaches, and if my timing is…

One thought on “Busted”

Thanks Jules! Yeah, it really is a shame how common this can be. I wonder if they recommend or provide counseling/support services prior to paying out the winners? It sounds like a miserable road to travel alone.